Alphabetical
by baylop
Summary: A series of drabbles and ficlets, taking a look in and around the lives of the Season 20 characters from A to Z.
1. A is for Aspiration

**Author's Note:** It occurred to me that it might be better to post which characters are featured for each letter, so that this isn't some annoying guessing game. So here it is—for the first chapter, scroll to the bottom. Also, thanks so much to those who have reviewed!

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A is for Aspiration **(Bernard)**

B is for Baseball **(Connie/Mike)**

C is for Crush **(Connie/Lupo)**

D is for Determination **(Lupo and Bernard)**

E is for Expectations **(Jack, Connie/Mike)**

F is for Frustration **(Olivet)**

G is for Golden **(Connie)**

H is for Headache **(Jack)**

I is for Impression **(Connie/Mike)**

J is for Judgment **(Van Buren)**

K is for Knowing **(Bernard)**

L is for Lunch **(Rodgers, Bernard, and Lupo)**

M is for Meaningful **(Connie/Mike)**

O is for One **(Mike)**

P is for Promise **(Connie/Mike)**

Q is for Quickly **(Jack and Van Buren)**

R is for Remembrance **(Jack)**

S is for Sick **(Lupo and Bernard)**

T is for Teacher **(Van Buren)**

U is for Understanding **(Lupo and Bernard)**

V is for Veterinarian **(Lupo)**

W is for Welcome **(Mike, Connie, Lupo, and Bernard)**

X is for Xenophile **(Rodgers)**

Y is for Yesterday **(Van Buren)**

Z is for Zenith **(Jack)**

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From his boyhood, Bernard distinctly remembers the detectives who'd come to his door on a Sunday and said his father wasn't coming home. They had sat in his living room—a large aging man with stubby fingers and his partner, thin as a wire and very tall—and talked with his mother, asking questions, glancing around the small room, trying to avoid his eyes as he watched them from underneath the kitchen table, spying.

He remembers the striped wallpaper they used to have, the well-worn furniture, the couch that groaned under the weight of the two men as they shifted in their seats. He remembers his mother looking lovely in her red dress, stone-faced, answering the detectives' questions so quietly and crisply that it had scared him.

He'd wanted to cry, but it felt like his tears were stuck in the back of his throat, choking him. So he continued to watch the men until they left, shaking his mother's hand, telling her they'd do their best to catch the killer.

It was that day that he aspired to become a detective. He wanted to defend people and punish those who did wrong, and bring comfort to the mothers who would sob into their pillows and the sons who felt helpless.


	2. B is for Baseball

When Mike Cutter needed to focus, he reached for his baseball bat, as a few good swings usually worked to clear his head. His baseball was also on standby, helping him to think and keeping him from fidgeting, a nagging habit that he'd picked up in his first year of law school.

It was a late December day when he felt the telling itch in his fingers. He'd reached blindly towards the left corner of his desk, but grabbed nothing but air. Puzzled (and slightly panicked), he'd looked around, searching under papers and scanning the floor to no avail. Finally, his eyes had settled on Connie, sitting across from him and holding the baseball thoughtfully while deeply engrossed in a file.

He didn't have the heart to ask for it back, but he needed one close at hand. So he simply bought another, and never said a word.


	3. C is for Crush

Lupo wondered if things would've been different if he'd asked Connie out in the first year or so that they had known each other. Before she got a chance to warm up to Cutter. Before she got a chance to fall in love with him.

In the beginning, admittedly, he'd had a crush. He would smile, and she would smile back, teasingly. He loved the sound of her laughter, the feel of her hand as it occasionally brushed his while walking. Detective Green had caught him staring one time too many, and had chuckled, shaking his head.

"Man, I tell ya. A girl like that? Way too high-maintenance."

He'd sighed, smiling softly.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

But he still wondered.


	4. D is for Determination

Lupo always took a law book or two with him on his way to the 2-7. The material was dense, and he often had to reread a page before moving on to the next one. After spending his days chasing down suspects and occupying his nights in law school, he would crawl back to his apartment utterly spent, falling onto his bed with Otto at the foot. Sleep always came swiftly.

Once Bernard had asked to see one of his books, letting out a low whistle as he weighed the pages in his hand. He'd opened to a random chapter, his eyes skimming over the material. After a few minutes, he snapped the book shut, passed it back, and shrugged.

"Not my kind of thing. But you'll finish—you've got enough determination."


	5. E is for Expectations

When Jack became District Attorney, he had assigned Connie to the new EADA based on his own past experience. Connie had worked well with him, so naturally he figured that she could also work well with Mike, a lawyer who—while brilliant—was known for being a bit reckless.

He had expected the two of them to get along. Nearly three years later, he was not prepared for Mike to all but reveal that he was absolutely smitten with her. Or that, given time, Connie would return those feelings in full.

Such revelations were not shocking to him, just mildly amusing. After all, he had gone through enough office romances to fill a book, so he wasn't about to become a hypocrite on the matter.

"Just keep it out of the office," he'd told them, retreating to his desk and trying to shake off how old he felt playing chaperone.


	6. F is for Frustration

Dr. Elizabeth Olivet knew that her opinion wasn't always popular in the Manhattan District Attorney's office, especially when it conflicted with a suspect's prosecution.

She practiced her profession with compassion, and therefore had to manage the opposition she faced from the cold-blooded enforcement of the law. She could handle (and even understand) the frustration and dissent of everyone from McCoy to Skoda. But she wouldn't back down.

For her, it wasn't about being right or wrong, but doing what she believed to be best for her patients.


	7. G is for Golden

For Connie, her first few months working in the DA's office were a whirlwind of experiences and emotions. She had never been busier or more stressed, but she was (mostly) loving every minute of it. It was her first big job, golden and new, and she was determined to settle in and excel.

She was never interested in making a name or gaining a reputation as anything other than a good worker—a good attorney. She kept to herself, but found the time to make friends in the office and join her coworkers for drinks when she could.

Eventually, she had her long, wavy locks chopped, opting for something shorter and more manageable on her hectic schedule. Eventually, she smiled more than grinned, chuckled more than laughed as she touched down from that new job high and grew accustomed to the day-to-day. She continued to enjoy her work, but she ceased loving it. Love was reserved for a night out with friends, getting to sleep in, visiting family, or zoning out in front of the TV with no worries at all. As the years rolled along, she would look back on her early days with fondness, yet be thankful for the present and the experiences she had since gained.


	8. H is for Headache

Jack always felt Adam was too politically entrenched in maintaining his position as DA. That is until he sat in the chair himself. Now he realized he gave his former boss unfair grief about it and other things, including his habit of flying off the handle to win a case.

Soon enough, the tables were turned and he found himself trying to ward off a headache after Mike Cutter made another hasty move. Then he massaged his temples and smiled in defeat.

And embraced the karma while reaching for the aspirin.


	9. I is for Impression

Mike had been busy hanging up his whiteboard when Connie stepped in to introduce herself. He had just begun to settle into Jack's old space—there were only a few more boxes to sift through—and was expecting his ADA to stop by soon enough, as the casework was already beginning to pile up.

"Connie Rubirosa," she'd greeted, smiling formally and extending a hand out to him. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Cutter."

Her hand had been cold and soft, a sharp contrast to his warm and slightly roughened skin. His first impression of her was that she was serious-minded and altogether quite striking. He'd also felt a quiver in the pit of his stomach and silently willed it away, and would continue to will it away for years to come.

The next time she took his hand, it would be to help convince a reverend to testify.

The time after that, it would be after their first real date, emerging from the little diner as snow fell silently around them. It was colder than they'd anticipated, and she had pulled him close, her hand encircling his, watching as their breath mingled in the night air.


	10. J is for Judgment

The detectives at the 2-7 knew better than to piss Lieutenant Van Buren off. But "knowing better" and "deciding otherwise" were two different things, and each and every one of them had been called in for a dressing down. Or three.

Each time the Lieutenant closed the door, hands folded, head shaking incredulously, they paused to see who was in judgment and assess the damage.

If the detective in question started to slump in their spot, it was bad.

If the Lieutenant started to raise her voice, it was worse.

And if she shut the blinds to her office, blocking the gawkers and rubberneckers from the action, everyone said a prayer, thankful it wasn't them.


	11. K is for Knowing

Bernard could look up his son discretely if he wanted to. He had his resources, his contacts. He could find out how the kid was doing in school, if he played sports, what he liked to do for fun. He could look him up, but he wouldn't.

Sometimes Bernard wondered about other things. Smaller things. What was his favorite color, what music did he listen to? What did he like to watch on TV, who was his idol, what was his favorite flavor of ice cream? Did he even like ice cream? It bothered him that he didn't know these things, even though there was nothing he could do about it.

He had seen Rosemary, the mother of his child, twice since they went their separate ways. The first was only briefly in the subway, and she had disappeared into the crowd before he could reach her. On their second encounter, she'd bumped into him while exiting a restaurant, nearly dropping her handbag in surprise. They had studied each other for a moment before Bernard had finally spoken up.

"So how are you?" he'd asked, genuinely curious. She'd looked off a bit to his right before answering him.

"Good. I'm real good. And James is doing fine, growing up so fast. I….um, here…." she murmured, digging through her wallet before producing a slightly crumpled photograph of their son.

He took it, holding the picture between two fingers, noting the round face and goofy smile.

"He looks more like you each day," she admitted, pursing her lips. Almost complimenting. "You can keep that, I guess. I've got to get going."

"Yeah, uh….thanks," he'd managed, tucking the photo carefully into his own wallet before looking up at her. She'd reached up to pat his shoulder briefly before moving past him.

"Good seeing you," he'd called out, watching her retreating form until she was gone. Going his own way, Bernard had smiled, fingers brushing over the wallet in his pocket. Perhaps James would come looking for him when he was old enough, wanting to meet his biological father. But for now, he was content to wait and wonder.


	12. L is for Lunch

Elizabeth Rodgers loved lunchtime. Every night, she would prepare a meal to take to work the next day. Each morning at 4AM, she'd leave a still snoring Ross and take a jog, shower, dress, grab her lunch, and leave for her job. Breakfast was eaten on the go.

By noon, you could find her with her salad, sandwich, pasta, or stew, taking bites and sips in-between mulling over paperwork or informing detectives of this woman's stab wounds or that man's slashes.

"How can you eat around here?" Lupo had once asked, as Bernard surveyed a corpse's tattoos that sprawled across his chest.

"You get used to the smell and the scenery," Rodgers had explained blankly. She'd scooped up another forkful of egg salad and chewed thoughtfully. "And I'm a major foodie."


	13. M is for Meaningful

Connie only brought up Marcus Woll once after his trial had ended. It was several weeks into their blossoming relationship, when Mike was still battling with himself. He'd stood by her bedroom window, his eyes studying the carpet before finally meeting hers as she sat on the rumpled bed, bare legs draped over the edge. The first rays of sunlight had been peeking through the blinds, making it look like his hair was glowing.

"This…thing that we have. Whatever it is. I don't want…"

He'd trailed off, shaking his head, unable to put his feelings into words. He loved her, was in love with her, but what they were doing was unprofessional. Challenging. Risky. And yet fantastic and wondrous in so many ways that he often found himself not caring about the consequences. He needed to know from her that their relationship had meaning and substance beyond the typical workplace fling as he looked towards the long-term. He needed…

Connie had stood, face undecipherable as she walked up to him and coiled her arms tightly around his waist. She'd smiled into the curve of his neck, resting her head against his shoulder.

"You're not Woll—just out looking for a good time. You're not Jack, either. And this is what I want, same as you."

And that was all he needed.


	14. N is for Nickname

Kevin Bernard was forever grateful that his old Catholic school nickname, Saint Bernard, was eventually dropped by his peers, who over time were able to look past the baby face, the gap tooth, the extra weight he could never quite shed. He worked to prove himself and gain respect, so people knew him and what he was about, and not just what he looked like.

Now he went by "B" and his partner "Lupes", names built upon trust and ease with one another. It was a symbol of loyalty, and also of friendship.


	15. O is for One

Mike Cutter's favorite moment during each trial was cross-examining the defendant. Like a hound to a hare, he was always in hot pursuit. The defendant could speed through lies and kick up sympathy all they wanted. It didn't matter, for he remained patient and calm, but always calculating. He would let the defendant run on and on until they tripped on their words, and then he'd have them breathless and trapped, chests heaving, faces twisted in delicious anguish. Then they would give him that one look, the look that screamed "I'm screwed".

Mike did not feel sorry for them—usually.

He simply pounced, going on the offensive and drinking in the satisfaction that came with the win.

Unless he lost, in which case he found satisfaction taking a swig from Jack's secret stash.


	16. P is for Promise

Mike always told himself that he would never take a coworker to bed, so when Connie was assigned to him, it tested his personal willpower. Not long after his affections were made clear, she gradually began to take down the last of the invisible barriers between them. Drinks after work turned into dinners. Personal space was cut in half. Then came the weekends in the park, at the museum, or taking in a movie without having to worry about office professionalism.

Such things were big steps for the both of them, yet still innocent enough. There was a kiss here and there, but they both held back, teasing and testing. Nevertheless, it was a futile exercise in self-control. The dam could only be built so high.

So Mike remained good on his word, right until the Friday night Connie had him pinned against the wall of his apartment, cold fingertips running underneath his cotton shirt, teeth grazing over his throat. By the time his eyes found hers again—their foreheads pressed, their breathing uneven—he absolutely crumbled, stumbling with her towards his bedroom in quiet urgency.

Breaking a promise had never been easier or more satisfying.


	17. Q is for Quickly

Jack and Anita didn't meet alone very often, but when they did, it was always memorable.

Sitting on a bench, they would watch as people passed—jogging, walking their dogs, keeping their kids from scrambling off, grabbing a bite to eat. They all had places to go. Things to do. Mileage to add to their internal clocks.

They didn't always talk after the initial work related issues were dealt with. Sometimes, it was just nice to sit for a while and think.

"We're old war horses, you and me," she had once said, closing her eyes briefly. "How quickly it all passes."

He had looked at her then, pulling his eyes off a boy whining after his mother for a Popsicle. His smile had been warm.

"Well, I'm not quite ready to be put to pasture just yet. Neither are you."

She'd laughed in agreement.


	18. R is for Remembrance

Twice in the month of May, Jack McCoy bought flowers.

For Alexandra, he immediately eased himself to his knees, gaunt fingers sadly tracing the engraving of her tombstone, still relatively new and unmarred. It still surprised him that her parents had elected to bury her in the city. He placed yellow calendulas upon her grave, and silently promised to watch over his assistants, so that they would never suffer like she did in their final moments.

For Claire, he paused, staring down at the name spelled in large block letters. He could already make out the little nicks and scratches around the edges. It was all so clinical—cold, even. He hated looking at the thing, but he continued to come each year, for her. Always for her. Gradually, he lowered himself to the earth, warm and scratchy under the mercy of the midday sun. He placed cream tulips upon her grave, and silently promised to appreciate those he loved, and to always say goodbye no matter what.

Both promises were waiting to be broken, but he did what he could in their remembrance.


	19. S is for Sick

The Tuesday morning Lupo woke up feeling like he was simultaneously being frozen and burned alive, he had cashed in his sick days. He spent the rest of the day and the following Wednesday trying in vain to keep something down. A neighbor had kindly offered to take Otto on his walks, as he could barely make it from the bed to the bathroom without feeling dizzy.

By Thursday, he figured the worst has passed, as he could eat a little without the immediate urge to stumble to the toilet. Looking grimly at the few slices of deli ham, old grapes, and half a pickle in his refrigerator, he'd wished that he bought groceries more often.

On Friday, he was considering making the trek to the store when Bernard had paid him a visit unannounced. Lupo had let him in, taking note of the bags in his hands as Otto inspected the man's shoes, his tail wagging.

Bernard had looked around, observing the modest furniture and mostly bare walls. "So this is your place, huh? It's more orderly than I thought it would be."

Lupo had shrugged, patting his hands on his sides. "What's in the bags?"

Making his way to the dining table, Bernard had set down the items, taking them out one at a time.

"Gatorade, for fluids. Gotta maintain your electrolytes. And soup," he'd said, showing him the large Rubbermaid container. Lupo had inspected the items. Orange was his least favorite flavor of Gatorade, but he was a sucker for homemade soup. One out of two wasn't bad, he decided.

"Didn't know you cooked," he'd mused, noticing that Bernard was keeping himself a safe distance away. He was still sick, after all.

Bernard smirked. "Sometimes, when I get the chance."

After voicing his thanks and predicting that he would be back to work on Monday, Lupo had watched him leave. He was reaching for a bowl in the cupboard when Bernard had quickly and uncertainly patted Otto on the head before stepping outside.

Lupo had smiled. He thought Bernard hated dogs.


	20. T is for Teacher

Van Buren liked to think that after all these years she knew a thing or two about making the most out of life. So when she divorced Donald, met the man of her dreams, and was diagnosed with cancer in the span of a year, her world was sent into a tailspin.

At the clinic, she watched the young girl beside her as the needle slipped into her vein; her eyes focused straight ahead, a calm expression on her face.

When it was her turn, the girl looked up and told her not to be afraid, reminding Anita that teachers came in all shapes and sizes.


	21. U is for Understanding

Bernard and Lupo didn't always agree. There would be days when they would argue, and admittedly it sometimes got out of hand. Now and then things got personal, but they made their best effort not to let it interfere with their cases.

On their worst days, car rides in-between hunting down leads were conducted in heated, heavy silences. They both were stubborn, and occasionally stupid, letting things go too far and not being able to let go.

However, as much as they could fight, there was also an unspoken understanding to never leave the 2-7 still angry. It wasn't always a full, drawn out "I'm sorry"—a forgiving smile, curt nod, or tired wave goodnight all sufficed. The important thing was moving on, and moving forward.


	22. V is for Veterinarian

Otto loved going for walks. Even when they led to the vet's office.

On the way, he would trot briskly by his master's side, tail high, ears perked, nose to the wind. He was friendly with the people he passed on the sidewalk, and even tolerated the presence of other dogs for Lupo's sake. He loved his master greatly, and his master loved him.

So when they stepped through the door and into the waiting room, bell signaling their entrance, he was patient. He sat solemnly on his hind legs, taking in the other poor beasts around him. An itchy pug. A tabby hissing spitefully from a cage. A basset hound puppy wiggling anxiously, needing to pee.

He waited until the technician called his name and his master stood, looking down at him hopefully. Pleadingly.

Like clockwork, he made a dash for the door, pulling Lupo a few feet before the man found his balance, holding his leash tightly and dragging him forcefully towards Examination Room #2.

He knew it was embarrassing for his master, but he could only do so much. Between the blood samples, stool samples, and shots, he thought Dr. Bailey and his staff were awful human beings.


	23. W is for Welcome

Connie stepped into Mike's office, taking note of the stack of files piled high on either side of his desk. She smiled understandably—it would be a long night for him.

"I'm going to go grab a beer with Lupo and Bernard. You know the place. See you at home, okay?"

Mike looked up from his work, mirroring her smile. "See you," he replied, nodding tiredly.

Connie had invited him to tag along with enough unsuccessful frequency to finally stop offering. She knew that he and the detectives weren't always on the best of terms, and wasn't about to push him into an uncomfortable situation. With a lazy wave goodbye, she made her way to the elevator.

Bernard and Lupo were already waiting and nursing drinks of their own by the time she got to the bar. Talk was easy, until Connie noticed the men had abruptly quieted. Glancing back, she saw Mike at the door, a hand running through his hair, looking a bit out of his element. The trio sat, stunned and silent, until Lupo eventually piped up, grinning.

"Welcome. Have a seat, man."


	24. X is for Xenophile

Elizabeth Rodgers always credited her skill as a medical examiner to her love for all things foreign. Even as a young girl, her parents noticed her rapt fascination with different cultures, places, and people—a true xenophile.

She was always buried in a book, but not the fairytales and adventure stories her peers were reading. Instead, she read mystery novels, history books, and about various sciences and the arts. She enjoyed submerging herself into the worlds of others, seeing how they operated and carried out their lives. It was a passion that both decided and governed her profession.

She equated her job to puzzle work, discovering what belonged and singling out the pieces that didn't fit. Being surrounded by lifeless bodies wasn't glamorous, and many didn't receive the justice they deserved. But for the cases that were solved, it made her job all the more worthwhile.


	25. Y is for Yesterday

Anita knew her time could be cut shorter than she'd like, but she decided it wasn't productive to dwell in the past. She couldn't afford the time or the energy—she wouldn't.

So nothing went underappreciated. She savored her turkey sandwiches, her slices of key lime pie. She always made her love for her family known. And she got out as much as she could, spending time with Frank or being by herself, thinking. Accepting. Cherishing.

The cancer may've made her notice more in life, but she wasn't about to let it change her. It wouldn't bring her down. For she was Anita Van Buren, tough as nails, bringing sass, snark, and seriousness to the 27th Precinct.

It was all about staying positive, she told herself. Each new day was because of a successful yesterday.


	26. Z is for Zenith

**Author's note: **So if you're here, you've reached the end. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

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For Jack, the high point of his career was supposed to be making EADA. Years passed, and he saw his coworkers (and his love life) rise and fall, all the while doing his best to serve the city and put lawbreakers behind bars.

In the midst of being elected DA, keeping in touch with Rebecca, meeting his grandchild, and watching his staff go about their lives, so much still awaiting them, he found that there really was no zenith. He was just damn fortunate, and he never forgot it.


End file.
